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DRAGONMOUNT

A WHEEL OF TIME COMMUNITY

Arath Faringal

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  1. Rochel surpressed a wince as yet another blow fell on her student. It was not a pleasant sight, to see someone bludgeoned by an invisible club, especially one of your own making. And yet, Rochel couldn't help but feel a little proud of the Accepted. Despite the fact that she failed to hold off all the attacks, she was doing everything correctly. Indeed, Rochel would have been astounded if Elin had managed to fend off all the attacks, especially once Rochel began trying to hit her. But she prioritized correctly; shields were always cut before clubs, even if it meant a bruise or two. And she had picked up on how to defend with multiple weaves very quickly. Spirit was obviously one of the girls strengths, and despite the look of concentration, she seemed to be enjoying this lesson. This one would go far if she kept up this effort. Finally, after one particularly hard knock, Rochel ceased her assault. "Excellent work child," the Domani sister said with a smile. "Especially for your first time working with that particular weave." Stepping forward, Rochel placed her hand on the girls forehead, and embracing Saidar, wove healing. In an instant, the bruises faded away, along with a portion of the exhaustion she must be feeling after channeling so hard. "You show a natural gift for weaves of this sort. Spirit comes easier for you than the other powers, doesn't it? Still, you will only get better through practice. Again, practice with the other Accepted. Try to shield each other, and defend yourself with all available methods. Now then, unless you have any questions for me, I will see you back here in a weeks time. I have another thing to show you that I think you might like."
  2. Despite herself, Rochel found that she was looking forward to seeing what the Accepted would come up with. There were only limited ways to perform the task she had asked of the girl, but it would be interesting to see which she had discovered. As Elin gave her report three days later, Rochel nodded in agreement. "Very good. You've discovered two of the three ways to defend yourself. The first, passive defense, is simply being strong enough that you can't be shielded. Not a very reliable method, because you never know when someone will be stronger than you. And even if they are weaker, they can have an angreal to give them the advantage. The second, defense by distraction, is somewhat better, but again relies on some luck. A very strong or skilled channeler may well be able to ignore whatever distraction you offer, or counter your distractions with one of their own. "The third method is what we'll focus on in this lesson; active defense. With this, even a weak channeler can defend themselves. To demonstrate it, I need a weave to use it against." Considering her options for a moment, Rochel tapped her lips in thought. "You will attempt to shield me. A good chance for you to practice with the weave, and for me to show you what to do against it." After a moment, Elin began what must have been an extremely awkward task and formed the weave to shield her teacher. Before the shield had crossed half the distance, Rochel quickly formed her own weave, a small sharp blade of spirit, laced with a touch of fire. She slashed forward with the weave and cut apart the shield, causing the flows to snap back to the startled Accepted. "This weave is another great tool of my Ajah," the Domani Sister said, waving the weave around in the air between them. "It can be used to disrupt a weave that is being formed, or to slash apart an already formed weave. "Can you duplicate it now? Good. I will form a set of weaves now, and you will defend yourself from them. I will gradually pick up the pace, so be prepared." OOC: Alright, little clubs of air, and a few shields, one at a time, then in two's, then in threes ... and so on and so forth.
  3. "Rochel Sedai, if the Shield is a weave like any other, it can be slashed or blocked with Spirit too, correct? Are there other ways to fight off a shield?" Tapping her finger against her lips, Rochel thought for a moment before responding. "There are, but I will not show them to you now. Instead, I want you to think about it for over the next few days, and come back to me with whatever you come up with. Practice shielding with the other Accepted, and try to find a way to fight off the weave." Remembering her own misadventures as an Accepted, she quickly added, "Under no circumstances are you to surprise anyone with shielding. Both of you must be fully aware of what is happening, and if there is so much as a hint of a sharp edge on your shield the consequences will be dire. Understood?" After the girl nodded her enthusiastic agreement, Rochel finished up the days lesson. "Very well. I will demonstrate the shielding weave one more time, and then I want you to duplicate it. Once you have it correct, you can have the rest of the hour free. But I will have you back here in three days to see what you have thought up on blocking shields. Now then, pay attention." OOC: Finish up this lesson, then just jump right into the next session.
  4. Rochel nodded with a small smile. "Very good child. Yes, this is a shield, and as I said before it is one of the most useful tools of my ajah. This will prevent a woman, or a man, from channeling while it is in place. A very powerful tool, wouldn't you agree? You'll find that no matter how hard you strain against that shield, you will be unable to break through it. Even if the person being shielded is significantly stronger than the one doing the shielding it is very difficult to get out of it. If I tie the weave off though," Rochel paused for a moment and did so, "the weave changes slightly. Feel it again. Do you feel that soft point? That was the center of the weave, or the point where it led back to me. It was soft because I held it myself, but now that it is tied off and self sustaining, it is hard. The shield also becomes more vulnerable. With enough time and effort, a tied off shield can be defeated. This is the reason why whenever a man who can channel is captured, six sisters maintain his shield at all times. Men are usually stronger in the terms of raw power, and often able to break through a shield held by a single sister, but that strength is overcome by a circle." Releasing the shield on Elin, Rochel moved on with the lesson. "There is another version of this weave, which has more ... lasting consequences." Once again, Rochel formed the shielding weave, this time adding a razor edge to the side. She didn't like this weave much, but she understood it's importance. "This shield is never to be used on anyone, man or woman, without the consent of the Hall. This weave is known by two different names, though it is the same thing in either case. Stilling in the case of women, gentling for men. The sharp edge of the weave will permanently sever a persons connection to the source." The young Domani sister released the weave and let the shield evaporate. "A vile thing, but necessary at times. The Red Ajah uses this whenever a poor fool of a man touches tainted Saidin. It is the only way to make them safe for the rest of the world. Unfortunately, most die shortly after it is used on them. The One Power is addictive, and without the ability to touch it, even tainted as the male half is, many simply give up the will to live." "Now then child, do you have any questions about any of this?"
  5. (Lol. 5 hours is NOT a long time to wait for a reply. Anymore I can go 3-4 days without worrying. :) ) Rochel quickly worked her way through the Tower, moving at a quick pace, but not quite the rush that marked the steps of an initiate. Simply the walk of a woman who knew where she was going and what she was up to. The accepted accompanying her trailed a perfect distance behind, bobbing curtsies without missing a beat whenever they passed another Sister. Quickly enough, their destination was reached; a a small but beautiful garden located close to the Red Quarters. The garden was always empty at this time of the morning, making it an ideal place for a lesson. Rochel had always hated the stuffy classrooms, and avoided them whenever possible. "Alright Elin, today you will be learning a little bit of advanced Spirit. From what I remember of novice training, it may seem like Spirit is one of the less useful of the five powers. I can assure you though, it is not. It may be the least impressive from a non-channeler perspective, but it has very many subtle uses. And also a few less subtle ones. Today's lesson will involve one of those less subtle ways." Moving a few paces away, Rochel embraced Saidar and spun around to face the Accepted. Slowly but deftly, allowing her student to see everything did, she placed weaves of pure spirit into a the wide solid form of a shield. Then, without warning, she launched the shield forward and slammed it into place on the startled girl. "This," she said with a small smile, "is one of the most useful tools of the Red Ajah. Embrace the source, and tell me what you find."
  6. It was a beautiful day in Tar Valon. The sun shone down warmly, and a pleasant breeze bearing the scents of the nearby farms took away any traces of extra heat. And Rochel was stuck teaching a lesson to an Accepted. The fact that she had been one of them not so very long ago did nothing to calm her. She was Aes Sedai now! Didn't that mean she could go off and do as she wanted? Apparently not. Her first year as a Red sister had been completely packed with lessons. She had long since suspected that an Aes Sedai's real training didn't begin until she reached the Shawl, and her suspicions seemed completely confirmed. The 15 previous years almost seemed like a waste. There were benefits to being a full sister though. Freedom to dress as she wished for one. The moment she had been able, Rochel had ordered an entire new wardrobe. She now wore a red silk dress in her native Domani style, and Light it felt good to be in it. Even if there weren't any men to dazzle with her looks. It just felt good to be herself again. But right now, she was not able to quite be herself. Classes always put her in an off mood, even if she wasn't the one being instructed. Hopefully she would be able to contain any irritation she felt and not make her student cry. That was never a fun experience, though it had so far only happened with one novice. Accepted rarely, if ever, had that kind of problem. Rounding a corner into the Accepted Quarters, Rochel was nearly trampled by a flock of white clad girls, scrambling to get to their next class. A scattering of curtsies and murmered apologies ensued, but Rochel waved them all to silence. "Elin Hawes," she said plainly, demand to know where the Accepted was plain in her tone. A dozen fingers pointed down the adjacent hallway, and Rochel was quickly on her way. Upon reaching the door, she briefly considered knocking, then remembering all the times that Aes Sedai had just barged into her room, she smiled and did the same. "Elin Hawes? It seems you have a lesson with me today. Come with me."
  7. Alright, here's the revised version, since apparently nobody can be from the Two Rivers. Character Name: Nandiel Rankin Nationality: Andoran Age: 18 Physical Characteristic: Brown hair, brown eyes, 5' 8" (5' 10" in the real world), 15 stone (150 lbs. in the real world) Physical Description: He's a rather typical Andoran youth, relatively tall and well muscled from farm work, rather plain in most respects, he wouldn't exactly stand out in a crowd as he's neither overly handsome or unduly ugly. He does have a rather large scar across his right ribs from a run in with a goat back when he was ten. They say he was lucky to survive. Personal History: Nandiel had a pretty typical childhood in Kore Springs, raising sheep and growing various items on his father's farm. He also learned to track, use a sling, and shoot a bow as typical of a farm youth. His life began to change from the typical on the night a gleeman came to Kore Springs and told the tale of the Fall of Manetheren. As Nandiel heard the tale of Manetheren's fall, something stirred inside of him, he was inspired. From that day forward though, it became Nandiel's goal to be like a man of Manetheren and be a Thorn in the Dark One's side. Nandiel's friend Boyd shared the same enthuiasm, as did their friend Thom. Though in truth Thom had begun to take a different lesson from the tale of Manetheren, namely that no one could possibly stand against the Shadow and hope to live. Something in the boys was calling them out into the world, and off they went, travelling first to Four Kings. There they heard rumors of how the Band of the Red Hand came to the Mountains of Mist. And even more laughable ones of as did the Trollocs attacking the Two Rivers in great numbers. That couldn't possibly be true, could it? Well, if it was, of course the inhabitants of the Two Rivers fought them off, they had the Blood of Manetheren flowing through their veins. At least, that was Nandiel and Boyd's opinion on the matter. Thom kept his opinion to himself, he thought it was nothing more than luck and a fluke, if it was even true. And that got him to thinking how could anyone truly hope to stand against the Shadow if it could bring Trollocs in huge numbers past the Borderlands without a problem? In addition, there were more Trollocs and worse out there if the stories could be believed. It was foolish to stand against the Shadow, or so Thom was coming to believe. After travelling to Four Kings, a fight broke out between the boys as to where they would travel next. Boyd wanted to see Tar Valon, and become a warder. What better way to become a Thorn in the Dark One's side? Thom said he wanted to travel down to the Two Rivers and join the Band of the Red Hand, they were the storied band of Manetheren. If they were going to try and be like the men of Manetheren, they ought to do it with the Band of the Red Hand. Nandiel on the other hand wanted to see Camelyn and other parts of the world, and then go on to Illian to join the Companions. They were the greatest fighting force in the world. That was were he would go to be a Thorn in the Dark One's Side. The boys couldn't resolve their differences and so decided to split up. Thom made his way to Baerleon, paying for his travel by doing odd jobs were he could and by juggling, a skill he had started practicing at a young age, in imitation of a glee man he had seen. He wasn't a great juggler, but he was decent enough to entertain in Inn's that couldn't afford a glee man. Nandiel and Boyd travelled together to Camelyn. They paid for their travels by doing odd jobs here and there on farms they passed by. Nandiel also knew how to play the flute, he'd learned from his father, who often provided the music for feast days in Kore Springs. His father had even carved him a rather simple wooden flute that was Nandiel's prized possession. He wasn't an incredible player, but he could get by, and it was enough to get them an inn every now and again. Boyd also had a penchant for gambling. He was somewhat lucky at it, winning more often than he lost, and somehow whenever he really, really needed to win, he did. But he also started getting rather sick. In Camelyn Nandiel and Boyd heard about the Dragon Reborn and his amnesty on male channellers. They were suitably horrified by the notion. From Camelyn Boyd travelled north towards Tar Valon, while Nandiel travelled south to Tear, not fully realizing that was were recruitment for the Asha'man took place. He simply wanted to see the famous Tarien horses and the fabled Stone of Tear, even if it had finally fallen. In Tear he saw two black coated men speaking. They were Asha'man recruiting would be male channellers into the service of the Lord Dragon. Nandiel couldn't believe his eyes or his ears. Then the Asha'man began to speak of what it meant to be an Asha'man, of what the word meant. Of how it meant one was to be a Guardian. As they spoke of the meaning of the word, something in Nandiel stirred, he knew that was what he had to be. That was how he could live up to the ideals of Manetheren he had imagined, how he could be a Thorn in the Dark One's side as well. Before he realized what he was doing, Nandiel was volunteering to be an Asha'man. He was quickly snatched up, tested and found able to channel. He was then whisked away to the Farm where his training began.
  8. The only restriction on BT characters AFAIK is no Seanchan/Sharan/Seafolk.
  9. DM Handle: Corlock Striker Contact Info: fsdinger@gmail.com Character Count: 0, this would be my first. Character Name: Nandiel al'Vaer Nationality: Andoran, with the blood of Manetheren flowing strong through his veins, so from the Two Rivers, specifically Edmond's Field Age: 18 Physical Characteristic: Brown hair, brown eyes, 5' 8" (5' 10" in the real world), 15 stone (150 lbs. in the real world) Physical Description: He's a rather typical Two Rivers youth, relatively tall and well muscled from farm work, rather plain in most respects, he wouldn't exactly stand out in a crowd as he's neither overly handsome or unduly ugly. He does have a rather large scar across his right ribs from a run in with a goat back when he was ten. They say he was lucky to survive. Personal History: Nandiel had a pretty typical childhood in Edmond's Field, raising sheep and growing tabbac on his father's farm. He also learned to track, use a sling, and shoot a bow as typical of Two Rivers's youths. His life began to change from the typical on the night the Trollocs first attacked and an Aes Sedai saved their town. Later the villagers, fearful of the Aes Sedai and thinking the Trollocs were her work, tried to run her and her warder out of town. It was then that the Aes Sedai told them of their history, and enchanted them with the tale of the fall of Manetheren. As Nandiel heard the tale of Manetheren's fall, something stirred inside of him, perhaps it was the Old Blood in his veins rising up in recognition of its past, who could say. From that day forward though, it became Nandiel's goal to live up to the blood that rushed through his veins and to be a Thorn in the Dark One's side much like his ancestor's had been. Nandiel's friend Boyd shared the same enthuiasm, as did their friend Thom. Though in truth Thom had begun to take a different lesson from the tale of Manetheren, namely that no one could possibly stand against the Shadow and hope to live. Something in the boys was calling them out into the world, and yet they didn't leave, not yet, for some reason they just couldn't. Then the Band of the Red Hand came to the Mountains of Mist, as did the Trollocs once again, this time in greater numbers. The three boys stood with the parents against the tide of Trollocs being old enough to hold a polearm. They were tasked with manning "The Fence" as it became known. And somehow they survived, miraculous as it seemed. Nandiel and Boyd put their trust in the Old Blood of Manetheren, that was what had saved them. Thom kept his opinion to himself but thought it was nothing more than luck and a fluke. How could they truly hope to stand against such an overwhelming force? There were more Trollocs and worse out there if the stories could be believed. It was foolish to stand against the shadow. After the second Trolloc attack on the Two Rivers the three boys left home. After making it to Baerleon a fight broke out between them as to where to go next. As they couldn't reach an agreement, they split up to travel the world seperately. Nandiel first went to Camelyn and was blown away by the city, much as he had been by Baerleon. He couldn't believe both places could be called cities, Baerleon was a pale shadow of what Camelyn was. In Camelyn Nandiel heard about the Dragon Reborn and his amnesty on male channellers. He was suitably horrified by the notion. From Camelyn Nandiel travelled to Tear, not fully realizing that was were recruitment for the Asha'man took place. He simply wanted to see the famous Tarien horses and the fabled Stone of Tear, even if it had finally fallen. In Tear he saw two black coated men speaking. They were Asha'man recruiting would be male channellers into the service of the Lord Dragon. Nandiel couldn't believe his eyes or his ears. Then the Asha'man began to speak of what it meant to be an Asha'man, of what the word meant. Of how it meant one was to be a Guardian. As they spoke of the meaning of the word, something in Nandiel stirred, he knew that was what he had to be. That was how he could live up to the heritage of his Manetheren blood, how he could be a Thorn in the Dark One's side as well. Before he realized what he was doing, Nandiel was volunteering to be an Asha'man. He was quickly snatched up, tested and found able to channel. He was then whisked away to the Farm where his training began.
  10. Daevis kept a silent watch over his two charges while they ate and talked with eachother. It was interesting to see how each one reacted to the new place. The Cairhienen was respectful to everyone, very mindful of station as were all his people. And yet he seemed almost eager. Which probably meant that for a reserved Cairhienen, he was bursting at the seams. The other man, was most definitely not a Tinker, though he seemed to be advertising himself as such. Hands roughed up by what looked like the marks of a frequent fist fighter, attitude at odds with what the Tuatha'an usually displayed, and eating meat, which the Way of the Leaf didn't allow. Daevis wondered what this man was running from. Why else would anyone pretend to be a Tinker? Soon enough, Daevis was pulled from his observations by the large group or recruits who filed into the inn, in search of what might be their last warm meal for a while. Attack Leader Dashiva trailed the group, looking throughly annoyed. "Daevis, are there anymore running around?", he asked, approaching Daevis' table. Daevis shook his head. "No baijin'm'hael, just these two. I've just been stuck baby sitting while they waited here." He glanced at the large group who were now sitting around some of the larger tables. "Looks like you made quite a haul this time. Remind me to never go wherever you just came from," he said with a grin.
  11. Daevis rubbed his chin in thought. A miner ... so it was possible that the man would be talented with earth. Or perhaps not. He might be better at weather manipulation. It was impossible to say. "Not to worry," the Asha'man said, brushing off the man's apology. "That just means you've given us a clean slate to work with. No need to completely relearn a trade you're already used to. Unless you really feel like digging holes for us. I hear one of the Storm Leaders is looking for a lot of materials for his pet projects. At any rate, you'll be taught everything you need to know, and eventually you'll figure out where your talents lie. Once you get a feel for the elements, you'll begin to figure things out, and maybe even discover some new ways of doing things. Light knows that we don't know everything about Saidin yet. That's become abundantly clear to us recently." The former Shienearan soldier trailed off, memories of the fall of his country still fresh in his mind. That battle had been a disaster. He'd been lucky enough to be among the dozen survivors from the group in Fal Moran, but so many others had never escaped the city. "Anyway," he continued, shaking his head and clearing away the unpleasant thoughts, "you'll be started soon enough. It's too late to back out now. And even if you could, would you want to? The last battle is coming. The opening blows may have already been struck. Where do you think you'll do more good? Hiding in a hole in Cairhien, waiting for something to come out of the shadows and eat you, or wielding death and lightning as your weapons and having the power to obliterate a fist of trollocs at your fingers?" A flash of light outside a nearby window drew Daevis' attention. A gateway rotated open at the nearby travelling grounds, and a handful of gaping men stepped through, followed by another man with a full set of pins at his neck. Another group had arrived. Soon there would be enough to begin processing. "You probably don't have much longer to wait. If you want to get something to eat, now might be a good time. Once your training starts, you won't eat another hot meal until you learn to cook it with the one power."
  12. Daevis gave a shrug at the quieter recruits question. "It's different for everyone. The taint gets us all eventually, but the timing and method seem different for every man who comes through here. Some succumb to it with on their first contact with Saidin. Others make it a week, or a month. I've been here for a year and a half with no noticeable signs of madness. Yet. "What happens to each man ... it's impossible to predict. Some men just snap in an instant and begin destroying everything around them. Some slowly develop voices in their minds and spend months slipping into a slow, relentless insanity. The lucky ones keep their mind while their body rots away. We don't usually let that progress to far. Even without the taint, men tend to go mad from that." With a dry laugh, Daevis shook his head and stretched again. "Cheeful bloody subject, isn't it? The worst part is that it's all worth it. The feeling of Saidin rushing through you, the sense of being truly alive ... the Power is addictive. Which is why we all eventually fall to the taint. No matter how repulsive it is, you can't stop channeling after you've done it the first time." "So then. What do you hope to get out of all of this? What kinds of talents and interests do you have? Your talents and abilities with the Power often reflect the things you've always done, so it's good to know what kind of experience you have before we start."
  13. Daevis settled further into his seat, and motioned for the two new recruits to pull up their own chairs. "For now, you stay here with me. When a few other groups arrive, I'll take you to the Attack Leaders who will add you to the books. For now, enjoy your last moments as a sane and rational man." He gave the Tinker an appraising look. "Or whatever you might be right now. After that, you'll be assigned a barracks, and given everything else you need. Spare uniforms, boots, and whatnot. You'll probably be given your first instructions on siezing the Source this evening as well. And then it's all down hill from there." With a large yawn, Daevis stretched his arms over head and cracked his knuckles. Light, he was tired. And instead of taking a well deserved nap, he had come to the inn ... perhaps the taint had taken over his good sense? After nestling comfortably back into his chair the Asha'man looked back to the new recruits. "So did you have any questions or concerns? I might not be the best person to ask about these things, but it beats sitting here in silence."
  14. Despite his casual appearance, Daevis kept a vigilant lookout for other villagers who might see the pair of intruders. It was somewhat of a nuisance then when Lorelai charged off recklessly down the stairs. He supposed there was good reason to hurry. That thumping sound probably wasn't anything good, if that was indeed where the prisoners were being held. Still ... it was annoying. Hurrying his pace to catch up with her, Daevis was greeted at the bottom of the stairs by the unusual sight of another wolfkin engaged in combat with a guard while her hands were tied behind her. Considering the disadvantage, she was doing quite well for herself. One guard already down, and the other still on the defensive. The conscious guard didn't remain so for long. Momentarily distracted by the newcomers, he fell to a viscious, well aimed kick from the tied up wolfkin. He crumpled to the floor in pain, his voice catching in his throat, just before a knee connected to his face and sent him into unconsciousness. Daevis had to admit, he was impressed. Turning to Lorelai he said with a bit of a grin, "Now why didn't you do that? It would have made things much easier."
  15. Lorelai rolled her eyes. What is that imbecile grinning about? Granted, the way those two thugs dropped like flies was amusing, to say the least. And there was always a huge advantage to managing to take down the enemy quietly enough to avoid tipping off the rest. But it just seemed too.... easy. As if it didn't involve any discipline to attain the power he had. He was just born with it. I was born a wolfkin too... Lorelai shook her head and ignored her last thought. She waved her hand for Daevis to keep on going. He was confident, that was a given, but being able to channel didn't mean a slash to the throat wouldn't do him for good. She half wondered if he was aware of it or not. Is it possible that he's trying to impress me? No, he's probably showing off. A breeze of wind carried Winifred's stubborn scent. "They're near by". She let her senses lead her into one of buildings. As she climbed down the stairs she heard something heavy collapsing on the floor. Quickening her step, without bothering to check if the Ashaman was behind her, she reached the bottom of the staircase to see Winifred fighting with one of the guards with her hands tied behind her back. The second guard was unconscious on the floor. "Honey, I'm home." Lorelai Ranger
  16. Daevis Thelandran yawned lazily and settled back in his seat, fully intending on enjoying his free time. For once, he had not been saddled with one of the endless classes with the soldiers, nor was he assigned to be with a recruiting party. It was probably an oversight, but he had no intention of correcting the mistake. Quiet moments were few and far between. Besides, someone was bound to come up and bother him sooner or later. Sure enough, a bothersome sight came trundling up the path through the gates of the partialy completed blakc wall around the Black Tower. A cart, bearing new recruits by the looks of it. And they were headed straight toward the inn. Which happened to be the place where he was lounging. The sudden urge to go elsewhere warred with his urge to be lazy and hope for the best. It was close, but the lazy part won out and he remained seated where he was. Big mistake. "Asha'man," called the Dedicated who was driving the cart, "where should I take these ones?" With a sigh, Daevis glanced up at the sun which shone weakly through the clouds. A little too early for the other groups to be coming through. The Attack Leaders wouldn't appreciate being bothered too early with in processing. "Just leave them with me. I'll take care of them until the Attack Leaders are ready for them." As the inhabitants of the cart climbed down, the large Shienaran Asha'man reclined against the wall, doing his best to look at ease. He did a fairly good job of it, as far as an Asha'man could look relaxed anyway. He looked somewhat like a grizzly bear ready to maul anyone who came near him. He stared at the newcomers as they approached him. One of them was dressed flamboiantly enough for a Tinker. THAT would certainly be interesting. "Well than boys, what might your names be, and what possessed you to take up the offer to come here?"
  17. Smart? Which Elayne are you talking about here? Given her track record, she'll say something along these lines if Mat is ever able to see her and warn her about the gholam: "Oh, no worries. I can't be touched until after I have my kids, so I won't need your medallion."
  18. Trying out the blog feature for the first time. If it seems useful, I might keep a lot of BT RP information here. NPC bio's and whatnot. We'll see ...
  19. The problem there is that Sammael doesn't gain anything at all from that lie. Do you think Sevanna would have just given up on that approach based on the word of a wetlander? I'm 100% sure that if she'd had the chance, she would have tried to make Rand swear obedience to her on that binder, just to make sure. And even if it does work both ways, it would likely require someone to channel Saidin into the rod in order for a man to swear on it. So unless they could figure out how to get Rand to do that, it wouldn't work. There was no reason for Sammael to lie about this.
  20. The future may be a little brighter, but that may very well fade over time if Egwene doesn't come to her senses about the 3 oaths. Despite the massive influx of fresh thought into the tower, the oaths will eventually bring them right back to where they were. I would think the Asha'man would help her come to the decision to abolish the oaths. Seeing them operating unrestricted by that foolishness, having double the lifespan, and probably the same amount of respect from the rest of the world. Of course, she might just stick her nose up, curse that wool-headed Rand for putting his arrogance into the Asha'man, and try to force the oaths on them as well.
  21. DM Handle: Grimm Contact Info: Mactorins[at]yahoo[dot]com Character Count: Including this one? One. Character Name: Baran Dholwin Nationality: Cairhienin Age: 18 Physical Characteristic: Height: 5'6 Weight: 150 pounds. Hair: Black, cut close to his head. Eyes: Dark, almost as black as his hair. Skin: The kind of pale that can only be achieved by spending most of one's time underground. Physical Description: He is fairly well-muscled, having spent a significant portion of his life working in the mines of his home village, though not as bulky as men who have done the same work for longer. His hands are misshapen and clumsy, after being broken and improperly set. Personal History: Baran was born into a fairly poor mining village near the hills that make up Cairhien's southern border. His mother died in childbirth, leaving the infant to be raised by his father, a hard man whose long hours in the mines barely put enough food on the table for the two of them. Baran's childhood wasn't that much different than many of the children growing up in the area. His father, unlike many men in his situation, did right by his boy. Baran learned what it meant to be Cairhienin from the man. He was one of the first children in the village to develop a quiet reserve, which reflected well upon his father. He was also one of the first children in the village to be put to work in the mines, not because of any urging from his father, but because he was able to grasp the difficulties that his father was going through just to feed them. Time passed, and Baran began to grow into a man. As happens with many young men, he developed rivalries with other boys he had grown up with, and while that sometimes lead to a scuffle or two, he maintained most of the friendships that he had formed as a child. Soon they were all shoulder to shoulder in the mines anyway, so being comfortable with each other was probably for the best. It was only a matter of time before the promising young man began to injure himself in the mines, it was an occupational hazard, after all. A minor cave-in left some young men without the use of their legs, so Baran counted himself lucky that he had hurt his hands. The village Wise Woman did her best, but her eyesight was going, and her own hands weren't as nimble as they used to be. Still, when they eventually healed, Baran's hands could still grip a pick and shovel, so he figured he didn't have anything to complain about. Baran was spending some of his hard-earned coppers at the local tavern when the first Asha'man came to town. Like many of the other people in his village, he was part of the crowd that gathered to see the Asha'man test the handful of volunteers that wanted to see if they could learn to Channel. Like those tested, he felt a soft compulsion to go and be tested, to see if he could learn. He resisted however, and remained hidden in the crowd until after the testing was over. He watched the group leave, satisfied that he had actually seen someone channel in his lifetime, and that the channeler had been a man! The village was scandalized by the development, of course, but life went on, and Baran went back into the mines with a few less friends at his sides. His father died a few months later. It wasn't uncommon for miners to develop breathing problems as they aged, and Baran's father was no exception. With little money to pay for a funeral, the son of the deceased, now a young man, took the body out into the desolate plains surrounding the village and burned it. He went back to work in the mines after that, now struggling with the almost certain knowledge that continuing to work in the mines would be the death of him. Still, he had known no other life, had no other skills besides the ability to swing the axe and push the load, so he carried on. When the Asha'man came again to the small village, Baran allowed himself to be tested. To him, it seemed like the only way to escape the same fate as his father. He didn't want to die unknown, unmourned by anyone except for his family. True, he would likely go mad and die if he learned to Channel, but at least he would have a chance for his death to mean something, instead of struggling for his entire life to earn a pittance only to die with nothing. To his surprise, he passed the test. He nodded his assent when he was asked if he wanted to be taken to Tear for training. Because he was Cairhienin, he smiled when he wanted to jump for joy and thanked the Asha'man for the opportunity when he wanted to hug the man. He was, after all, his father's son.
  22. I think you fail to understand just how big a deal that is to Rand. Being trapped in a box, or any kind of captivity, is Rand's greatest fear. When he went to announce himself to the Sea Folk he began to have a panic attack because of the enclosed cabin the talks took place in. Then to find out that Cadsuane had kept a tool specifically designed to bring him into complete slavery ... given the way she constantly treats him, it isn't too much of a stretch for him to conclude that she kept it as plan B. What to do if she can't bully him into doing what she wants. I honestly hoped she'd make some sort of snide comment when Rand asked her if she thought he could make her heart stop simply by willing it.
  23. The Eye of the World. Though to be honest, he didn't really know what he was up doing at that point, and probably wasn't focused too much on how 'clean' it felt.
  24. Skimming wouldn't work either. You need to know your destination well for that, so unless you're familiar with the bottom of the ocean or the center of the earth, you wouldn't be able to open those gateways.
  25. I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that the couple who has been sleeping together for 6 books or so probably know each other by their full names.
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